


Agree With Me

by sabinelagrande



Category: Taskmaster (UK TV) RPF
Genre: Aftercare, BDSM, Background Alex Horne/Rachel Horne, Background Greg Davies/Rachel Horne, Biting, Claiming, Cuckolding, Dom/sub, First Time, Flogging, Getting Together, Inexperienced Sub, Kink Negotiation, M/M, Matchmaking, Meddling, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Punching, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-16
Updated: 2021-03-22
Packaged: 2021-03-24 14:14:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30073479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sabinelagrande/pseuds/sabinelagrande
Summary: Rhod Gilbert: the matchmaker nobody ever asked for.
Relationships: Greg Davies/Alex Horne, Greg Davies/Alex Horne/Rachel Horne
Comments: 20
Kudos: 43





	1. Chapter 1

Rhod can't leave well enough alone. Rhod has never in the entirety of his life been able to leave well enough alone. One might even argue that Rhod's life, as it stands, is the result of not leaving well enough alone. If he'd left well enough alone, he might be in Carmarthen working at a petrol station, married to a girl from school who was only very vaguely interested when it came down to it. But it looks now like Rhod is going to fail to leave well enough alone once again.

At this point, it's been several years since his particular run on Taskmaster, though the show is still going. He's actually seen more episodes since he went on it than he did before. A thing that continues to catch his eye is what caught his eye before and what caught his eye even in what he saw of the live stuff years ago. It catches everyone's eye; sometimes the show leans into it, and sometimes the show leans out of it, but it's always there.

Greg and Alex need to fuck.

Rhod is starting to get personally invested in the fact that they haven't; he would know if they had, because it is the kind of thing Greg would absolutely tell him. He wouldn't be able to stop himself. If he finally managed to nail Alex to a wall, he'd call Rhod before he got his trousers back on. He and Rhod have an understanding; they are of a mind. No one else would appreciate that revelation like Rhod.

Because the thing is, Greg's not just acting like he's some big sadistic master who likes to humiliate people; Greg _is_ some big sadistic master who likes to humiliate people. He's a fucking marshmallow ninety-five percent of the time, so he worries and frets and spends too much time on aftercare in a way Rhod finds personally offputting, but it doesn't change anything. Rhod knows he's all twisted up about Taskmaster. Rhod doesn't fucking know why- possibly because Greg doesn't know a windfall when he sees one- but it hasn't changed anything.

Rhod has known this about Greg since they lived together. He's not the same as Greg, but he's in the neighborhood, and like knows like. The one time they tried together was a disaster; Rhod was meant to take a dive in the takedown bit and just couldn't in the moment, so it ended with him with his knee on Greg's chest and Greg looking up at him like, for the billionth time, Rhod was an alien from space.

Somehow, he and Greg are still friends, quite close ones, actually, for all their bickering. Presently they're having a beer at Rhod's place; Sian is out for the evening. He'd say any of what he's likely to say in front of Sian, because, obviously, Sian's a like minded individual. He thinks she might be getting slightly annoyed at how invested Rhod has gotten in the fact that Greg and Alex need to get down to business, but she doesn't disagree. But the point is, her friends are having a drink and she's with them, not here.

Rhod and Greg are discussing things of no real importance. Greg's been trying to decide whether to spend the summer in Spain, there being basically nothing stopping him. Rhod wants to paint his kitchen and hates himself for caring what color the kitchen is. They agree that they are boring old men, but it doesn't stop them.

"I could put a dungeon in my house in Spain," Greg says contemplatively.

"You could sink three thousand quid into that and you'd only use it four times a year," Rhod says, making a face.

"The aging process has fundamentally broken you in some way," Greg says.

"I was already this cheap," Rhod says. "You just hate that you agree with me."

Greg laughs, taking another drink, and suddenly Rhod can't hold back anymore.

"Why haven't you fucked Alex yet?" Rhod demands.

Greg slaps his hand over his mouth to keep himself from doing a spit take. " _What?_ " he says, when he's done sputtering.

"You heard me," Rhod says. "You should have fucked him by now."

"Can I ask what brought this on?" Greg says, wiping beer off his palm.

"Does anything need to bring it on?" Rhod says.

"Yes?" Greg says, like Rhod is the unreasonable one. "Look, mate, me and Alex are strictly off the table. Never in a million years. Not even worth a moment's thought."

"I know you," Rhod says, narrowing his eyes.

"That is genuinely my greatest fear," Greg says.

"You want him and you think you can't have him," Rhod says. "I don't know why that's something you think, but it does seem like you."

"I don't know how you're not seeing what's happening here," Greg says wearily.

Rhod raises an eyebrow. "What's that, then?"

"Rhodri, only an ice cold scoop of vanilla could possibly look at Taskmaster and think it was a family show," Greg says.

"Hold on," Rhod says, flummoxed, then doesn't continue.

"If he were the least bit kinky, he'd have noticed," Greg says. "It's my role to act like I'm getting off on it a little bit, but Alex is just genuinely happy to make a show that makes people happy. He has no idea what he's doing."

"Wait," Rhod says, holding up his hands. "In your massive, deranged head, Alex can't be kinky because Taskmaster is _too_ kinky?"

Greg shrugs. "If you wanna put it that way, yeah."

Rhod rubs his forehead. "Jesus Christ. So you genuinely think that all of this is an accident?"

"Let's say I'm wrong," Greg says.

"Oh, with pleasure," Rhod fires back.

"None of it changes the fact that Alex is not interested in me," Greg says.

Rhod waves a hand dismissively. "You never think anybody is interested in you."

Greg raises an eyebrow. "You'll find that's not true."

"You act like you're a misshapen creature who just dragged himself out of a lake," Rhod says. "Every time we ever went out on the pull, someone tried to climb you like a tree. Drive 'em away being all self-effacing, you do."

"I have absolutely no idea how to respond to any of that coming from you," Greg says. "You do think I'm a misshapen creature who just dragged himself out of a lake."

"I'm keeping you humble," Rhod says. "There's a difference. Not that I need to when you're shooting yourself in the foot, not even making an attempt with someone who's obviously eating out of the palm of your hand already." Something doesn't quite fit for Rhod, something Greg is normally hung up on. "Why haven't I heard you whinging about how he's married?"

"Um," Greg says. "Funny you should say that."

"Is it?" Rhod says.

"I slept with Rachel," Greg says, wincing.

Rhod's eyes widen. "What?!"

"You know how it is-"

"Really don't."

"Alex was away," Greg says apologetically, "and she said he didn't mind-"

"Jesus," Rhod sighs. "You'd do that, but you won't fuck Alex?"

"Rachel wanted something very specific that we both enjoyed, but it was finite," Greg says firmly. "She knows she can call me up-"

"And you're sure Alex actually knows?" Rhod says skeptically.

"Yes," Greg says, sounding unamused. "But that's not what I want from Alex. It couldn't be that way." He's shutting off, never having had a poker face; this actually bothers him. "He has no interest in what I would want from him. I'm not going to disappoint myself and frighten him."

"He's not afraid of you," Rhod says dismissively.

"Yet," Greg says darkly.

"If he's not afraid of _me_ , he's never gonna be afraid of anybody," Rhod says. Greg doesn't respond. "You always get that face when I make a good point."

"There's no way of knowing," Greg says. "I've yet to hear you make a good point."

Rhod rolls his eyes, and Greg changes the subject, suddenly and poorly. Rhod, being magnanimous, chooses to let him do it, and the issue doesn't come up again.

The issue doesn't come up again that night with Greg, that is. Rhod obviously can't leave it now. Now he knows that Greg wants it and isn't letting himself have it because he thinks he can't, and Rhod's not gonna let that state of affairs go on.

There is only one efficient, sensible solution.

They have these things sometimes, where it'll be a Taskmaster party, and you're only invited if you were on Taskmaster or are one of the handful of crew that have been deemed acceptable. It's not An Event or a totally open invitation, because there have been over fifty people on the show and that's ridiculous. But it's like being in a cool, weird club, and Rhod does enjoy cool, weird clubs.

It's only fifteen people or so tonight, exactly the right amount of people to either huddle up or make yourself fade into the background. Two things are unusual: Alex is there, and Greg is not. Greg didn't used to be a frequent participant, but lockdown hit him hard, and now he'll come to any party on the flimsiest pretense. Alex never comes to anything, ever, and never has, making fumbling excuses about having a family and not living in London.

But Rhod happens to know that Greg's niece is in a play and he's going tonight; he also happens to know that this is a mini goodbye thing for Mark Watson, who's going to Venezuela. It's a mini goodbye because he's coming back in three weeks or something, but Rhod knew it'd draw Alex out. For once, he wants to speak to Alex, not Greg, who doesn't know what's going to happen.

They're out on a patio at a tapas place, it being a warm evening, all of them scattered about the area. Sally is attempting to teach Nish to rumba, which is a thing to see, so the group is largely distracted. Alex sat down at a table in the corner to make a phone call, probably to his wife, and didn't get up afterwards. He's still sat there, looking out at everyone else, thinking whatever he's thinking.

The perfect target. Or at least that's what several glasses of sangria are telling Rhod.

He sits himself down across from Alex, who looks at him curiously. Neither of them say anything for a moment.

"You're staring at me like you're about to accuse me of something," Alex says.

"Don't start feeling special," Rhod says. "That's how I stare at everybody."

"What's wrong?" Alex asks.

"Do you wanna have it off with Greg or not?" Rhod says, because of course it goes exactly the same way the second time.

Alex's eyebrows go up to his hairline; at least he didn't have anything in his mouth. "That wasn't a question I was expecting."

"I don't know why," Rhod says, just to be contrary.

Alex shrugs. "Mostly because it's a thing people assume I'm already doing without talking to me."

"Well, here I am," Rhod says. "I'm not assuming. I'm telling."

"I think that's supposed to be 'I'm not asking, I'm telling,'" Alex says.

"Stop being slippery," Rhod says.

"I know what it looks like, but I'm married-" Alex starts.

"Oh, pull the other one," Rhod says. "Greg already told me about-" He just makes kind of a gesture, because they are in public, sort of.

"I wasn't aware he was telling people about that," Alex says, pursing his lips.

"I badgered it out of him," Rhod says, by way of apology.

Alex looks uncomfortable. "It's just that she was all alone, and she and I agreed that, if he said yes-"

"Which isn't kinky at all," Rhod says, rolling his eyes.

"Pardon?" Alex says, obviously thrown.

"Look, come off it," Rhod snaps. "You've got to be one of us."

"One of who?" Alex says, frowning.

"You know what I'm talking about," Rhod says. "Our kind of people." Alex shakes his head in confusion. "A member of the lifestyle," Rhod tries, but Alex still isn't getting it. Rhod sighs angrily. "Are you fucking kinky or not, for fuck's sake?"

"Oh," Alex says, his eyes going wide. "Oh, oh no, nothing like that, I couldn't possibly- I mean I've never- I haven't-"

"Then why do you make such a kinky show?" Rhod says, cutting off his babbling.

"That's how Key feels about it," Alex says, sounding a little annoyed with himself. "I don't think he, um, does that kind of thing, but he thinks the show is."

"So you _do_ know it's kinky," Rhod says triumphantly.

"I know there are things we do that some people find arousing," Alex admits. He raises an eyebrow. "Much of which, I am given to understand from the internet, was your fault."

"I'll take that," Rhod says, just a little pleased.

"Overall it's not my intention, and-" Alex says, then he sighs. "I'm doing this so that people will enjoy it, and if the enjoyment they get is a- a kinky thrill, then what does it hurt?"

"I think you're getting a thrill," Rhod says, looking him up and down.

"It's really too much work to find arousing," Alex says, sipping from his glass.

"If it was, you wouldn't keep up all the shit with you and Greg," Rhod says, and Alex's hand freezes. "You look like you love it."

Alex puts down his glass. "None of this has anything to do with me and Greg off screen," he says, in a businesslike voice, Alex the creator, not Alex the friend, like he's doing damage control.

"Don't give me that shit," Rhod says irritably, not pleased at having been shut out. "You think he doesn't want to pounce on you?"

"I really don't think that's how it is," Alex says. He drums his fingertips on the tabletop, his resolve visibly cracking. "Is it?"

Rhod smirks, unable to help himself. "It's written all over his face," he says. He leans forward, dropping into a conspiratorial whisper. "Greg is into all that kinky shit."

Alex takes a breath. "I thought that was a possibility."

"You think it doesn't turn him on when you go out of your way to play into it?" Rhod says, because the way Alex is turning red and shrinking a little is really interesting. "Of course he gets off on you acting like his little servant."

"Do you, um," Alex says, scratching the back of his neck. "Do you think he really does?"

"I _knew_ you were doing it on purpose," Rhod says.

"I'm not," Alex protests. "It would just make me feel differently if I thought he was, um." He looks for a word, and Rhod lets him, out of sheer curiosity. "Enjoying it in a way I didn't expect."

"He's gonna eat you alive," Rhod says.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" Alex says.

Rhod looks him dead in the face. "Do you want him to tie you down and beat you until you're crying, then fuck you within an inch of your life while he tells you what a good little slut you are?" Alex looks simultaneously terrified and like if Rhod told him to get on his knees right now, he'd do it. "Then it's a good thing."

"How do you even know he's like that?" Alex says, taking a sip of his drink to calm his nerves.

"Because I've watched," Rhod says, and Alex looks alarmed. "Don't worry, I wait to be invited." Rhod snorts. "Though between me and Greg, I'm the one who's had your dick in my face."

"Oh, I could never forget that," Alex says. He cuts his eyes up suddenly, and Rhod wisely shuts his mouth.

A pair of hands come to rest on Rhod's shoulders, and he looks up to see Sally. "I need a warm body," she says.

"What a coincidence," Rhod says, and Alex kicks him hard in the shin. "What are you bodysnatching for, then?"

"I need someone to use as a model so I can explain to Nish how hips work," Sally says. "Someone who's male-shaped and doesn't embarrass easily."

"Well, I hope you didn't come over here for Alex," Rhod says. "He'll burst into flames." He stands up, and Sally hooks an arm through his. "Alright, do your worst."

The rest of the night goes smoothly; Rhod learned his lesson and has more than enough to cover both his tapas and Nish's, since Nish really has been a good sport. He goes home, crashes out next to Sian, and that's about it.

In the morning, Rhod is still feeling good about his handiwork, gathering information and planting seeds. He could let it play out, but he can't be sure of these idiots' capacity to act in their own interest. Instead, he texts Greg:

_Got everything settled for you_ 👍 

The reply takes a moment, but only consists of:

**…?**

_I talked to Alex for you  
No trouble_

Greg is typing for a moment, then the phone rings.

" _WHAT?!_ " Greg says when Rhod picks up, not even waiting for Rhod to speak.

Rhod actually takes the phone away from his ear, blinking a few times before he puts it back. "I'd hate to hear what it sounds like when you get bad news."

"Jesus Christ, Rhod, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" Greg demands. He sounds furious, and Rhod should really backpedal, try to rein it in. Unfortunately, he's never done it before and he's unlikely to start now. If this goes any worse he'll either deny everything or beg pathetically. It's kind of his modus operandi.

"You should be thanking me," Rhod says.

"What the fuck did you say to him?" Greg says.

"Oh, you know," Rhod says. "Just the pertinent stuff."

"If you don't give me a straight answer, I will come to your house and throttle you with my bare hands," Greg says.

"That's why I didn't call you from my house," Rhod says, even though he's on his couch.

"Rhod," Greg says, in a flat, dangerous voice.

"I just told him the important stuff," Rhod protests. "I told him you were kinky-"

"Fuckin' hell."

"And that you got off on it when he, y'know, pranced around for you-"

"Fuck does that even mean?"

"And I may have suggested that you want to fuck him-"

"Shit, shit, _shit_ -"

"But you do, so that's fine," Rhod says.

"Do you realize," Greg says, and he's audibly trying not to scream, "that you could have ruined my entire life?"

"What?" Rhod says, frowning. "No, I couldn't have."

"All it takes to end my career is for Alex to decide that he thinks what I want is wrong," Greg says. "What if he decides I've harassed him? What if people start thinking I get off on _Hometasking_?"

"You think about this too hard, mate," Rhod says, though he's starting to feel genuinely uneasy.

"No, you don't think at all," Greg says. He sighs heavily. "Just tell me what he fucking said."

"You're gonna regret you were so annoyed at me," Rhod says, taking any opportunity to wrench this back in the right direction. "Because he's into it."

"What is your definition of 'into it'?" Greg asks skeptically. "Because I suspect it diverges from a normal person's by quite a bit."

"He's not in the scene or anything like that, but we knew that," Rhod says. "But kinkier than a hose that got lost in the shed for a year."

"Even if any of this is true," Greg says, which just sets something off in Rhod, being contradicted when it's already come to this, "I don't know why Alex potentially being kinky has anything to do with me."

"Because he wants to fuck you, you ten foot idiot!" Rhod shouts down the phone. "He wants you to bend him in half! Christ, how fucking thick do you have to be to not understand you're supposed to beat the shit out of him and fuck him until he screams!"

There's a pause.

"That is the oddest thing I've ever had shouted at me," Greg says.

"Probably not," Rhod says. "He wants this and you want this, and the two of you need to get your shit together."

"Why do you think you have any involvement in this?" Greg asks.

Rhod doesn't understand the question. "Somebody had to." Greg sighs in disgust. "Everything's gonna be fine. You're gonna hook up and it'll be amazing. Invite me to the collaring."

And then Rhod hangs up before he can be contradicted again.

Before Greg can think to do it, Rhod quickly types a message to Alex.

_Got everything settled with the big man  
He's totally into it_

**He told you that?**

Rhod glances around, though there's no one in the room.

_Yeah, he's excited_  
_Definitely strike while the iron is hot_  
_Good luck_ 👍 

**Thanks, I think**

Rhod puts his phone down. That's his good deed for the day done. Now, to wait.

\--

"I think we should talk," Greg says, wincing the entire time, glad he can't be seen.

Alex rubs his forehead and doesn't sigh. "Perhaps you're right," he says. "Neutral ground, I think?"

"Yeah," Greg says. "I know a place."


	2. Chapter 2

It's three days before they can actually meet; this is, in the grand scheme of things, remarkably fast. It's just that there's a lot you can move when you want to actually make something happen. Meetings become calls or turn out to be completely optional, and last-minute regrets are given with no explanation.

Greg is not interested in providing an explanation.

"You do know the House is a kilometer that way?" Alex says, as he walks towards the picnic shelter Greg is sitting under.

"That's what makes it neutral ground," Greg says. He looks Alex up and down. "You look hot." Alex stammers, panicked. "No, you look like you're burning up in that thing."

"I am, actually," Alex says, almost apologetic, and unzips the thick coat he's wearing, shrugging out of it. Underneath he's wearing a garish short sleeved shirt with pineapples on it. It's buttoned down far enough for Greg to see he's wearing a Taskmaster crew shirt under it, the commemorative kind they give out at wrap parties. Greg can't decide if it's supposed to mean something.

"I was hedging my bets," Alex says, startling Greg. "The weather forecast was all over the place."

"Please tell me we are not about to talk about the weather," Greg moans.

Alex snorts. "It's not what I came here for." Greg is sitting on the bench of the picnic table, facing out; it's the only way he fits. He's not sure what Alex is about to do, but he sits down right next to Greg, like they're on a sofa.

"I'd ask you what you did come here for, but I think I already know," Greg says.

"I think maybe you have more understanding than I do," Alex says. "But I have some idea."

"I need us to start clean," Greg says carefully. "Whenever I've done something inappropriate-"

"You haven't," Alex says.

"Do you really mean that?" Greg asks.

"I'd be the one to judge," Alex points out.

"But you would be completely within your rights to be terrified of me," Greg says, feeling a little baffled at how calm Alex is.

"I'm not frightened of you," Alex says. "Greg, you're sarcastic, but you're incredibly kind. I feel completely safe with you. I can't even picture-"

"Alright, alright," Greg says, a little embarrassed. "This won't work if you have no capacity to be afraid of me."

"What do you have in mind?" Alex asks.

Greg gives him a look. "How much do you know about, you know, everything?"

"Well, if you're talking about what I assume you are," Alex starts, but then he sighs. "Nothing, basically. I couldn't even bear to watch the relevant porn." Greg raises an eyebrow, but Alex continues. "I- I couldn't know whether they liked it. I couldn't handle the thought that they might not."

"C'mere," Greg says, overwhelmed with fondness, and he wraps Alex up in a bear hug. Alex seems confused, but he hugs back. Greg has no intention of overstepping anything, especially not in a public park, but sometimes he feels like Alex is a thing that should be protected, too good for this world.

Greg lets him go, leaving his arm on the table, brushing Alex's back. "But you are reasonably certain you're at least willing to try some things, knowing you can back out?"

"Yes," Alex says, sounding sure, if not completely steady.

"Right," Greg says. "This is a negotiation now, welcome."

"May I ask what that means?" Alex says.

Greg laughs, perhaps a little bit out of desperation. "Oh, we are working from the ground up," he says, hating the way it gives him a thrill, like he could mold Alex into exactly what he wants. "Negotiation is when you talk out what you want, what you don't want, where the lines are."

"That makes sense," Alex says. "Um, if you could maybe tell me what you like?"

"I'm sure Rhod filled your head with all manner of bullshit," Greg says dryly.

"Not really," Alex says. "He really only said a few things."

"Whatever he said, just wipe it from your mind," Greg says, and he'd swear that, for just a moment, Alex looks disappointed. He's starting to want to take his arm back, but he can't bear disappointing him twice in such a short amount of time.

"Well," Greg says, sighing, and he resolutely looks away from Alex. "I like to hurt people who enjoy being hurt. Not much into sting- canes, crops, whips, that kind of stuff. Floggers are good, but if we're being completely honest, I like to use my hands. Rough body stuff is good too- that is, I like to throw people around."

Greg is trying to figure out how to explain why he likes it that way, how it makes him feel like his outsized body is his, something useful instead of cumbersome. He doesn't even know if he should explain, but before he can decide, he hears an odd scritching sound.

He turns to look, and Alex is sitting there with a fucking notebook and a pencil. He looks up at Greg like he sees nothing wrong. "I just wanted to make sure I didn't miss anything," Alex says. "Please, go on."

Greg is so overwhelmingly fond of this idiot that it's painful. "I like sensation play, but mostly as a warmup or a first time thing," he says, looking away again. "There are some other things that you don't have the equipment for, so we'll skip it. I've never tried CBT, but I'm not averse, provided I could learn to do it properly. Um, bondage is a means to an end, so if my bottom isn't a squirmer, then I only do it if they like it." He looks back at Alex. "I've been talking for a month and I'm not done, so this is a good time for questions."

Alex looks assiduously over his notes. "I thought CBT meant cognitive behavioral therapy," he says.

"Uh," Greg says. "It does, but, uh, in this context it means cock and ball torture."

"Oh," Alex says slowly. "Right, ah- I also have the word bottom in a sense I don't recognize."

Greg's brain hurts a little. "A bottom is on the receiving end of pain or bondage."

"I see," Alex says, making a note. "And does that mean the same thing as sub?"

"Do you have other questions?" Greg asks, and Alex shakes his head. "Then we'll come on to all that now."

"Seems premature," Alex says, looking down at his notebook.

"What's that-" Greg groans when he gets it. Alex is grinning to himself. "I swear on the lives of all those dear to me, if you are setting me up-"

"No, no," Alex says. "I just saw an opportunity. Really, I haven't misled you at all."

Greg glowers at him a little bit, but he takes a breath, willing himself to continue. "I'm a dom," he says. "Haven't had a sub in a long time, if I'm honest, but that's just, you know, who I am. I like being served. I like humiliating subs and sometimes scaring them. I'm possessive, and I can be cruel when I want to. That's, um." He stalls out, suddenly feeling exposed. "That's enough to be getting on with, I think."

"You didn't say anything about sex," Alex says.

"Huh?" Greg says, thrown. "None of this has to be sexual. I wouldn't make you do that unless you wanted."

"But I thought that _you_ wanted-" Alex says, letting it trail off.

"I mean, it's not that-" Greg says, then he waves his hands. "Do you want to have sex, on three, yes or no."

"Right," Alex says.

Greg counts off slowly. "One, two-"

"Yes," Alex says.

"Goddammit, Alex," Greg says, rubbing his temple.

"What?" Alex says. "Oh, you meant _after_ three. It's just that you said _on_ three-"

"Are you just a brat and not telling me?" Greg asks.

"I don't know, but I really don't think so," Alex says.

"I really think we should talk about you," Greg says. "This isn't a one-way street."

"Oh," Alex says. "I don't have anything prepared."

It melts Greg a little bit. He can see the outline of Alex, the shape of him, a good boy who wants to do a good job. Still, it won't get anyone anywhere if he goes assuming that. "Yes, by the way," he says, before it gets lost.

"It's good you remembered," Alex says.

"Put it in your notebook," Greg says. Alex actually does, but Greg chooses to let it slide. "You don't have to give me your autobiography." Alex taps his pencil against his notebook, looking a little apprehensive and a lot frustrated. "Would it help if I asked you some questions?"

"It might," Alex says.

"Alright, first things first," Greg says. "Are you interested in topping anyone?"

"It sounds like a lot of work," Alex says, wincing. "Perhaps if I-"

"You don't have to play that game," Greg says. "If you don't like something, say you don't like it. In six months when you've got your feet under you, maybe you revisit it." He shifts. "I mean, not with me, because I don't bottom, but anything could happen."

"I would be okay with not learning how to top, at least for a while," Alex says. "And I'm not- at least, I don't think-"

"You can say it," Greg coaxes, when Alex stalls out. "Just you, me, and the pigeons. They don't give a shit what you are as long as you have bread."

"I'm not a dom," Alex says. "I think I might be a sub, actually."

"Do you like being hurt?" Greg asks, in this intimate, small space that seems to have opened up around them.

"I don't really know," Alex says. "Nobody's ever done it to me. But I-" He stops, rubbing his forehead for a moment. "I don't know if you could actually throw me around, but it's really appealing."

"Do you like it when I humiliate you?" Greg asks, because this has ceased to be a neutral conversation, if it ever was.

"I'm not sure how to put it," Alex says. "When you're doing it, I'm never thinking about it. I'm thinking about what I can do to make the joke funnier. But later, after it's over, I- I think about it." He shrugs. "I usually think about how it would have been better if it had gone farther."

"Do you mind giving me an example?" Greg asks, intrigued.

"The dog bed was funny," Alex says. "But it would have been better if I'd had a collar on, or if I'd humped your leg."

Greg's mouth goes dry.

"So that's a yes on the humiliation," Greg says, and Alex shrugs. "This is a thing you might not know the answer to, and you may unfortunately find out," Greg prefaces. "What are the things that upset you? Maybe something that happened during sex that you hated, maybe something that it just bothers you to think about?"

"I don't like blood," Alex says. "I don't mind cleaning it up, but seeing it exit me is just not good."

"Fair," Greg says. "I think you would hate playing with consent." Alex looks at him curiously. "You wouldn't even watch porn because you didn't know if the actors were enjoying it. You can correct me if I'm wrong, but I think pretending like I was hurting or assaulting you would turn you right off."

"Nothing about that appeals to me," Alex says, looking a little sour.

"There you go," Greg says. "You got to learn that about yourself now and not with me barrelling down on you." He sighs. "I'm going to ask you something, and I want a truthful answer."

"Alright," Alex says.

"Did you tell Rachel to sleep with me because you got off on it?" Greg asks seriously.

Alex bites his lip. "I'll tell you the whole story, shall I?" he says finally.

"Please," Greg says.

"The boys and I were gone and Rachel was alone," Alex says. "Rachel and I were winding each other up, and- you see, you were already on Rachel's free pass list."

"You two don't seem like the free pass type," Greg says skeptically.

"No one ever actually uses free passes," Alex says, looking annoyed to have to explain. "It's a thing people let themselves talk about because it'll never happen."

"And then it did," Greg says.

"We didn't think you were going to say yes," Alex says, and Greg's eyes go wide. "I was ready to tell Rachel to tell you it was a joke, but then I didn't, for reasons that escape me. And then you actually did it, and-"

"Mate, I am so sorry," Greg starts.

"I was so turned on I felt like I couldn't even breathe," Alex says.

"Oh," Greg says. He isn't sure what to say. "Can I ask why?"

"I don't know," Alex says. "Both of you are much hotter than I am, for a start, so just aesthetically it's pleasing to think about."

"Is that all?" Greg says warily.

Alex is silent for a long time. "You're better than me," he says. "I think about it a lot. I don't know if I wish I was like you, but you make me want to give you everything, because it's safer and better off with you. This is how I found out that included the mother of my children, and thank god she wanted you anyway."

Greg has no idea what to say. He could easily say too much; he kind of wants to bend Alex over this picnic table. Every urge in him says to catch and pounce, to claim immediately. However, he is an adult, they are in public, and fucking up here could end with hurting Alex deeply.

"We should set up a scene," Greg says, instead of anything that's roiling in his head. "I want to make sure we really are compatible and show you the ropes."

"Really?" Alex says, looking surprised and eager.

"Definitely," Greg says. "Why don't you give me some time to think of where to start, I'll pull something together, and we'll make sure we both agree."

"Yes, of course," Alex says. "That sounds like a great idea."

"Good," Greg says. He's planning his escape route when Alex speaks again.

"Can I ask a favor?" Alex says, looking oddly bashful.

"Yeah, of course," Greg says.

"It's a nice day, and we, um," Alex says. "It's just that we don't ever really get to just sit, just us."

Greg is a little shocked, though he probably shouldn't be. "I'm not in any hurry," he says, because the only hurry he was in was to get away from a very big conversation. He pulls his arm tighter around Alex, holding him against his side.

Even though Alex suggested it, he's stiff at first. He loosens, leaning into Greg's side, and beyond all expectation, he puts his head on Greg's shoulder. They just sit like that for a long while, barely even talking, just being next to each other.

There is nothing in the world that Greg hates like Rhod being right. He's just not going to tell Rhod anything happened.


	3. Chapter 3

Greg's place has a dining area, from which Greg has removed the actual dining table. There's a door on one wall that Alex knows to lead to Greg's bathroom, bedroom and spare room, then a pair of open doorways that lead to the kitchen and living room. It's an odd spot, but Greg's flat is big but oddly laid out.

Alex is not actually thinking about any of this, because Greg is walking around checking things. Alex doesn't actually understand what all it is; he has kind of a cushiony place set up, and a table, and some bottles of water. He very much knows what he's doing, and it makes Alex feel some kind of way he can't parse, the consideration.

He isn't sure how he expected Greg to dress; Alex himself wore a jumper and jeans, because he was clear on the fact that he was just going to be taking it off anyway. He's kind of glad of it, because he feels more himself, comforted by that piece of normalcy. Greg isn't dressed wildly differently than he normally is. He's wearing a black button-up, but unusually, he's got his sleeves rolled up and his shirttails hanging out, like he intends to move. The effect is interesting; another man might look like he was going to do some painting or not finished getting dressed, but Greg just looks like he means business.

"You okay?" Greg says, standing in front of him. "Still want to do this?"

Alex nods. "Yeah. Yes. I'm ready."

"If you need to back out, you can back out whenever you want," Greg says. Alex nods again, looking away. "Alex, look at me." He looks back, worried by Greg's tone. "If you need to stop me, if you need it to be less intense, _anything_ you need, you will never experience a single consequence from it. Do you understand me?"

"I think so," Alex says.

"Are you ready to start?" Greg says.

"Yes," Alex says, willing his voice not to shake, whether with excitement or fear.

Greg wraps him up in a hug, kissing his forehead. "I'm going to leave and come back, alright?" he says. "It'll only be a few minutes. I know it doesn't sound like it, but I think it'll be less jarring for you if there's a clean break this time."

"Okay," Alex says. "What should I do in the meantime?"

"I want you to get undressed," Greg says. "You can leave your pants on for now, if it makes you feel more comfortable. Then I want you to stand in the middle of the room with your back to the door and wait for me."

"Alright," Alex says.

Greg bends down, putting a hand on the back of his neck; Alex shuts his eyes, and they're kissing. They have kissed before, more than once, but it's never _meant_ anything. "See you in a minute," Greg says, and Alex nods mutely.

Greg leaves, and Alex is all alone. He starts undressing before he can think better of it, methodically removing his jumper and his t-shirt before starting on his jeans. There's an out of the way end table that doesn't look like it's part of anything, so Alex stacks his clothes there, adding his socks to the top of the pile. Now he's just in his boxers; he looks over at Greg's staging area, where he's left his toys. Alex has seen all of them, approved their usage, but now they look like a threat.

Alex pushes down his boxers decisively. He'll look like an idiot standing here in just pink pants; they've got palm trees on them, for fuck's sake. Besides, it seems so inefficient.

There's more than one entrance into the room, but it seems only logical that Greg would have meant the door he left by. Alex picks out a spot, trying to figure out what to do with his arms; he doesn't decide, so he leaves them by his sides. If he thinks about all of this minutely enough, maybe it will fill the time until Greg comes back, suck up some of this interminable waiting.

Alex does hear the door open, but Greg doesn't say anything. Alex is struck with a moment of blind terror, because he just doesn't know what's going to happen. _Anything_ could happen, despite careful planning on both their parts. They could make it thirty seconds in only for Alex to absolutely panic, because he just can't be certain he wants this.

Alex takes a deep breath, trying to force himself to listen to his body, see if he actually wants to rabbit or if it's just nerves. Greg's footsteps are getting closer, and he doesn't have many of them left to decide. Everything could be about to go completely to shit, and Alex just doesn't know what he wants.

Greg is on him already; he grabs Alex and pulls him hard against his body. One of his hands goes around Alex's neck, keeping him pinned. Greg bends down and bites into his shoulder, teeth sinking in, a sharp pain when he sucks on Alex's skin, and Alex realizes that he doesn't want to get away. He doesn't want to get away at all. He wants so badly for this to be happening, and he wants to see how far it goes.

"You made a mistake letting me catch you," Greg says, and Alex shivers at his voice. He doesn't sound like the Taskmaster; he sounds like the _idea_ of the Taskmaster, cold and harsh and unnecessarily seductive. "Don't expect to get away now."

Alex gasps when he changes sides, mauling Alex's other shoulder. The deal was no visible marks, but Alex suspects he's going to be black and blue underneath his clothes. Rachel already knows he's coming home that way, but he's just going to have to see how that plays out. Right now, it hurts and it feels good, a duality that Alex hasn't quite wrapped his head around yet.

He makes a noise when Greg grabs his cock; Alex is mentally frayed right this minute, but his cock has apparently decided that everything is going great. "Tell me, boy," Greg says, sounding all too knowing, and he lazily strokes Alex's cock. "Do you know what's about to happen here?"

"Yes," Alex says, though he doesn't trust his own voice.

"And what is it?" Greg asks.

Something about it makes Alex want to curl in on himself, admitting what he's going to allow to be done to himself. "You're going to hurt me," he says.

"I really am," Greg says, in a satisfied voice. "And what am I doing to do after I've beaten you to a pulp?"

"You're going to, um," Alex says, but he stalls out. That is the part that he has already done, albeit not with Greg, so he doesn't know why he can't get it out.

"Ah, ah, ah," Greg says. "If you don't say it, you don't get it."

"You're going to," Alex starts again, and he manages to weakly add, "have sex with me."

Greg sighs, like a teacher with a dear but not very bright student. "I'm going to fuck you until you can't move," he says. "But I will accept that answer."

"What should I do now?" Alex asks.

Greg makes a noise that sounds, more than anything, satisfied. He lets Alex go all of a sudden, turning him towards the wall, a large space with no obstructions. "Against the wall," Greg says, shoving him towards it hard. "Brace yourself on your hands."

Alex stumbles, but he does it, putting both hands on the wall. "Forward a step," Greg says, and Alex does it. He slaps the outside of Alex's thigh. "Feet shoulder width apart. Hands lower on the wall."

Alex focuses on adjusting his stance, trying to make it comfortable, and Greg gives him the space. He feels a little better, steadier, but he has every expectation that that isn't going to last an instant longer than it needs to.

"Better," Greg says, and he steps in behind Alex. Alex braces to get hit, but that's not what happens. Instead, Greg puts his hands over Alex's, smoothing up Alex's arms and down his back. It's like he's tracing Alex, getting the shape of him. The motion isn't exactly comforting; it feels nice, Greg's big hands on his skin, but it's more like he's making a map. Alex feels a tingle of anticipation, of how it's going to get worse.

Greg slaps his ass sharply, and Alex jumps a bit; Greg doesn't pause, doing it on the other side, then both together, grabbing Alex's ass at the end. His fingernails are short, but they bite in anyway, sharply enough that Alex has to go up onto his toes, trying to get away from it.

"Are you going to let me have what I want?" Greg says into his ear.

Alex swallows hard. "Yes."

"Dangerous," Greg says. "I could do anything to you."

"Yes," Alex says.

Greg nips his earlobe, not quite enough to really hurt but enough to get his attention, then steps back. "You'd let me and love it, wouldn't you?"

Alex doesn't say anything for a moment. "Yes," he answers, in a small voice.

"You are a slut," Greg says, and in his voice, right now, it sounds like the rarest compliment. "You'd stand here and give me everything I want, just because I want to have it."

"Yes," Alex says. "I'm yours."

Alex gasps as Greg brings a flogger down across his back. It feels really unfamiliar; it doesn't _hurt_ as such. He doesn't have anything to compare it to, but it's a little underwhelming. Greg hits him twice more, and it doesn't really get too much better.

"Is it too painful?" Greg asks.

"No," Alex says. He hears the swishing sound of the flogger, but Greg doesn't strike again.

"Hmm," Greg says, and then there's a pause. "Try this."

Greg hits him again, and this time Alex's back arches. It really hurts, a solid blow that seems to radiate heat into his back. It feels entirely different, like it's not even in the same family.

"Yeah?" Greg says, and he strikes him in the other direction, making a V on his upper back. He does it another time, and Alex lets his head hang. "That's good, isn't it?"

"Oh," Alex says.

"I thought certainly you'd need all the warmup in the world," Greg says, hitting him twice more. "I thought you'd take forever. I was going to do it, mind, but now I see that you _really_ want me to hurt you."

"I-" Alex says, but he feels too overwhelmed to speak.

"Shh," Greg says. "Just take it. I've got you."

Alex can't really think of anything to do except push his shoulders back, try to make a bigger target.

Greg keeps hitting him, a rhythmic left-right-left-right that's kind of hypnotizing. Alex hadn't really known how this would go; he looked at Greg's toys and the distinction between them was meaningless. Whatever he's been hit with is heavy, and it feels like it's unlocking him, untwisting something inside him that's wired shut. It hurts, but that ceases to be the point.

He doesn't even jump when Greg hits him across the ass, straight on the horizontal, just rocks forward. "Hold still," Greg says sharply, and Alex quickly sets his feet. "You better learn some manners or I'll hit you in the dick."

"I'm sorry," Alex says quickly. "I'm so sorry."

"We'll see," Greg says, and he goes back to working Alex's ass. His whole backside feels hot, like it would be warm if he could touch it. He wonders if he'll bruise from this; you bruise from being spanked, but he doesn't know if he's going to have the outlines of falls across his back. The idea is suddenly incredibly appealing.

Greg stops, and Alex wants to protest. In a moment, though, Greg's arm is around his waist. "Are you alright?" Greg asks softly.

"Yes," Alex says, which isn't a lie at all.

Greg kisses the top of his head. "Do you like how it feels?"

"Oh yes," Alex says.

Greg puts his hand gently on Alex's shoulder blade. "You like it better here."

"Feels nicer," Alex says; it was okay on his ass, but not as satisfying, somehow.

"I think you can take it harder," Greg says. "You don't have to."

"Please," Alex says, because the idea of _more_ is amazing.

"What do you say if it's too much?" Greg says.

"Yellow," Alex says. Greg has emphasized to him that there are worse things than yellow, but also said he knew Alex wouldn't call red if he lost a limb.

"Good boy," Greg says, kissing him again. He steps away, and Alex feels both disappointed he's gone and impatient that they haven't started again.

"I need you to tell me one or two," Greg says. "There's not a wrong answer."

Greg showed him two floggers for his approval that Alex assumed no human would want to be struck with; Alex had agreed thinking Greg would terrorize him with them but not actually use them. Alex is about to be caught with both of them, but he can't pull together enough brain cells to have an opinion about that.

"This is one, alright?" Greg says, and he hits Alex with something _extremely_ unpleasant. Alex makes a noise of pain, wanting to clutch his shoulder. It feels much, much stiffer, almost like it's sharp.

"Two," Alex says, through gritted teeth.

Greg snorts. "Don't commit to things you haven't tried yet," he says, "but here is two."

The second choice comes down across Alex's other shoulder, and Alex sighs. It feels like the original, just heavier, and that he thinks he can handle.

"So it's thud for you, I think," Greg says, and Alex leans into it when Greg starts hitting him with the bigger flogger. "That's good to know."

Alex's head feels like it's full of wool, but it feels so nice. The pain really does something to him, and he wonders if it would have always been like this, if there were more than three or four people in the world he could have let do this to him. It isn't nothing that Greg is doing this to him; it absolutely matters. Greg is so amazing, and Alex trusts him implicitly, always has. That Greg would take all this trouble and care to give Alex this, it makes him feel warm in his chest.

It doesn't hurt that the pain is absolutely turning him on, his cock hard as Greg works him over. He hasn't forgot that after this, Greg is going to fuck him, something Alex is eagerly anticipating.

The flogger stops, and Alex hears the sound of velcro. "If you were thinking I was going to let the flogger have all the fun, you're wrong," Greg says, with a smirk in his voice. "How are you, by the way?"

"Oh, I can't complain," Alex says fuzzily, and Greg laughs. He sounds electrified, like he's pulling the energy right out of Alex, and the idea is incredibly hot.

Greg sighs. "Alexa, play boxing playlist," he says, which does make Alex giggle. "Oh, I'll make you regret that."

The music has started, and it's definitely not for boxing. It's something dark, with a thudding baseline. Greg cracks his knuckles, and Alex had honestly thought he might be pretending about this, but apparently not.

Greg's fist impacts Alex's back right in the same zone as the flogger, and Alex lets out an _oof_ at the force of it. It feels different; Greg is wearing MMA gloves, the closest Greg will ever get to MMA, so it's a blunt smack. Right on top of where Alex is already hurting, it's a pain that goes into his whole body, diffuse but no less strong.

Greg is hitting him to the beat of the music, using it somehow. Alex cries out when he goes harder, and Greg makes a sound like a predator, like he's going to eat Alex alive. All Alex wants to do is surrender, let Greg hit him and hit him until Greg is satisfied, until Alex comes apart. He really liked the floggers, but now he sees why Greg likes his hands. There's no separation between the two of them, nothing at all, and Alex shrinks underneath it, wilts, is reduced to nothing but a plaything, everything within him slipping into some kind of void til there's only Greg, and his whole body hurts but in his head, nothing hurts at all.

"Alexa, play after playlist," Greg says, undoing his gloves and carelessly tossing them out of the way, because Alex is sagging against the wall. Greg carefully takes his hands away from it and walks him to the nest of pillows that he's prepared. He sits down first, then guides Alex down. Greg might normally put him on his knees, but this is the first time; instead he puts Alex's head in his lap.

Alex has gone deep, and Greg can't help but feel a little proud about that. He's worn himself out almost completely, but Alex is just a sweaty lump. Greg likes that for him.

"Here," Greg says, uncapping a bottle of water and handing it to Alex. He sits Alex up a little, and Alex drinks messily before handing the water back to Greg. Greg guides him back down, stroking his hair. Greg likes this part, much more than some people he could name, cozy and soft while he helps someone he just took apart put themselves back together.

Alex doesn't say anything, which doesn't surprise Greg at all. They sit there for a few minutes, but then Alex looks up at him.

"Aren't you going to fuck me?" Alex says, his voice slurred.

Greg pinches his own thigh to keep himself in check. "I think you've had enough," he says gently. Alex wouldn't even say it like that if he was in control of himself.

"But you promised," Alex says, sounding genuinely distraught. "Did I do something wrong?"

It clicks for Greg that the scene isn't over, not for Alex, and he'd better readjust right this second or risk everything going sour for him. "Alright, alright," Greg says, because of course he still wants to fuck Alex, all good intentions aside. "Do you want it here, or do you want me to take you to bed?"

"I don't know if I can walk," Alex says.

"Not a problem," Greg says, and he stands, scooping Alex up and carrying him bridal style into the bedroom. His arms are fucking killing him, but it's worth it for the way it feels to lay Alex out on his bed, see him lying back with a perfect expression of trust on his face. "On your belly."

Alex rolls over, grabbing one of Greg's pillows for, Greg doesn't know, emotional support. There's lube in the bedside drawer, and he grabs it and a condom. He can't quite get the angle right, exactly how this should go. He doesn't want to hit the wrong note and make Alex upset.

He climbs onto the bed, smacking Alex sharply on the thigh. "Spread your legs," he orders, and Alex does it immediately, letting Greg take his spot. "What do you want?"

"Please fuck me," Alex says, almost a whine, and he hisses when Greg brings both his hands down on his already sore ass.

"Why?" Greg asks.

"I-" Alex sounds bothered by the question. "You said you would."

Alex cries out as Greg draws his nails down his back. "Tell me why you want it, or you don't get it," Greg says deliberately.

"I want you to claim me," Alex says. "I want to be all yours, please-"

"Seems like it's only fair when I already claimed your wife," Greg says, and while Greg's never actually been into cuckolding, the way Alex shudders with his entire body makes him reconsider.

"Oh god," Alex breathes. "Oh god, please take me."

"I will," Greg says, pouring lube onto his fingers. He pushes them inside faster than he normally would, just to see Alex's back arch, hear the noise of desperation he lets out. "You're mine now, and you can't get away. I'm gonna use you like the slut you've always wanted to be."

"Yes," Alex says, and he sounds like he's almost sobbing.

Maybe if Greg was a better person, or a kinder person, or just a nicer person, he'd check in, see how Alex was handling it. But when it's like this, a sub at his mercy, begging incoherently, wanting him to the point of distress, he's just not.

He takes his fingers away, unzipping his jeans and pushing all of it down. His cock is rock hard, and he coats it generously with lube, because he really cannot be bothered to do any more prep. He stretches himself out over Alex, holding his cock steady to press inside of him.

"Fuck," Alex says shakily.

"Just take it," Greg says. "You're a good boy, you can take it for me." It was the right thing to say, because Alex groans, pushing back against him. "Always knew you were a good boy. That's what you want to be, an obedient little boy who serves his betters."

Alex drops his head into his pillow. "Yes," he says, face pressed against it.

Greg could say it wasn't good enough, demand that he yell it, but he doesn't need to. There's nobody else here, and he heard it perfectly well. "Good boy," he says, really fucking him now. " _My_ good boy. You belong to _me_ , and don't you dare contradict me."

"More," Alex breathes.

Greg bites the back of his neck, trying not to growl. "God, I'm going to fucking ruin you," he promises, and Alex just moans.

It doesn't last long, because how could it. "Touch yourself," Greg orders, and Alex manages to reach for his cock, stroking it. "Come for me, if you know what's good for you." Alex groans into his pillow, and Greg can feel him coming. Greg pounds into him, pushing him down into the bed as he finishes, marking his claim.

Alex protests when Greg pulls out and moves away. "None of that," Greg says gently. "I do have to clean up at least a little bit."

"Take your clothes off," Alex says into his pillow- well, Greg's pillow.

"May I ask why?" Greg says, just for his own amusement, basically.

"I don't see why I should have to be naked if you're not going to," Alex says petulantly.

"If you insist," Greg says.

Once he's cleaned up and gotten naked, Greg climbs into bed next to Alex. He's still laying there face down, and Greg puts an arm across his waist, getting up close to him. Greg thinks he might have fallen asleep, but he turns his head.

"Was that alright?" Alex asks.

Greg has to take a deep breath, because his impulse, when Alex asks stupid questions, is to yell at him. "Did you think it was alright?" he asks instead.

"I thought it was good," Alex says.

Greg doesn't worry himself about the lukewarm phrasing, because Alex still looks wrecked. "Then it was good," he says, kissing Alex's forehead.

"If you're going to go to the trouble of kissing me, you could at least do it correctly," Alex grumbles.

Greg laughs. "Then unhand my pillow and come show me the right way to do it," he says, and Alex does.


	4. Chapter 4

Rachel is having a good morning so far. She has not actually gotten out of bed yet, but that's one of the reasons it's good. In fact, she hasn't moved from where she went to sleep, nestled against Alex with Greg spooned up behind her.

She has since flipped over, and she and Greg are kissing, taking their time about it. Greg is cradling the back of her head with one big hand, and she can feel something else big pushing against her thigh, spreading wetness across it in a way that should feel disgusting and doesn't.

Alex hasn't left, and he's just stroking her, his hand running along her hip, the curve of her waist, her arm. At first she was very apprehensive about being with both of them, Alex basically there just to watch, but the way he looks at her and Greg changed her mind. Alex looks at them like they're something amazing, miraculous, a sight he's been gifted with. It was almost startling at first, but now she wants to roll around in it, luxuriate in how it feels to be wanted so much.

Alex has always wanted her, a thing she knows because he's completely transparent. This is just more, amplified, and Greg's not too bad either.

She grabs Alex's hand and leads it between her thighs, settling it over her mound. He starts moving his fingers, just like she likes, kissing her shoulder, and-

Greg's phone rings.

It actually rings Toccata and Fugue in D Minor, and Greg makes an unhappy noise. He doesn't move to answer it, and it stops. He redoubles his efforts, grinding against Rachel's leg. Between him and Alex, Rachel is just about ready to-

Greg's phone rings again.

Greg pulls away from Rachel and sighs. "Sorry," he says, rolling over and grabbing his phone. "If I don't answer, that idiot _will_ come over here."

"Oh no," Alex says.

Greg puts a finger over his lips and answers. "What do you want?" he says.

"Rude is what you are," Rhod's voice says over the speaker. "Doesn't even say hello."

"Hello," Greg says. "What do you want?"

"Drag yourself out of bed and put some pants on," Rhod says. "We're getting breakfast."

"In Welsh?" Greg says, smirking.

"When we agreed you would spot check me while I was learning Welsh, it was ten years ago, while I was learning Welsh," Rhod says, annoyed. "And you don't speak Welsh, so it was only ever a personal challenge based on vanity."

Greg is grinning now. "Clock's ticking."

Rhod sighs. "Dyn ni'n mynd i bwyta brecwast. Or maybe fwyta. Now get your clothes on so we can fucking mynd."

"Why are you so convinced I'm naked?" Greg says. "You happen to know I sleep in a t-shirt."

"I'm gonna call the zoo and have them put you back with the other rhinoceroses if you don't get up," Rhod threatens.

Alex has his face pressed into Rachel's back, and he's shaking with silent laughter. Rachel has a different predicament on her hands. Her nose is twitching something awful; she has her finger pressed against her face like a moustache, which is supposed to stop you sneezing, but she's really just trying to hold back the inevitable.

"Sorry," Greg says. "I'm busy."

"Busy?!" Rhod says incredulously. "How can you be busy at nine in the morning on a Saturday?"

With comedic timing, Rachel loses it. She gets her hand over her mouth as she sneezes, but it's not enough to keep the sound in.

Everyone on this side of the call freezes.

"Oh, that had better be Rachel," Rhod says darkly, and Rachel is gobsmacked.

"Why on earth would Rachel be in my house right now?" Greg asks, like it's ridiculous.

"She already fucked you, and I can't think of another woman who would," Rhod says.

Rachel socks Greg hard in the arm, because she didn't know Rhod knew. _Sorry,_ Greg mouths, with an apologetic look. "I do alright," Greg protests. "Besides, I don't know why you're hung up on it being Rachel."

"Because you still need to close the deal with Alex, and she's the only other acceptable party," Rhod says.

Rachel and Greg shrug at each other. He's an arse but he's not wrong. "Anyway, as you can tell, I'm busy, so I'm going to hang up," Greg says.

"Fine," Rhod says. "Take care of yourself, Rachel."

The words come out of Rachel's mouth without passing through her brain, an impulse to be hospitable that she can't overcome. "You too," she says, and she slaps her hand over her mouth. Greg's face lights up with some weird mixture of shock, horror, and delight.

"Ha!" Rhod says triumphantly, and Greg hangs up in self defense.

"Oh god, I didn't mean to do that," Rachel says, putting her hands over her face.

Greg gently lifts them off. "You don't have to play along with me fucking with Rhod," he says. "I don't care if he knows."

"Plus it was very funny," Alex says, bending over to kiss her.

"If it's fine," Rachel says, still a bit unconvinced, but willing to accept it.

Greg lets her go and puts his hands behind his head. "You can make it up to me by doing all the work."

Rachel laughs. "You are insatiable."

"Don't tell anyone," Greg says. "It'll ruin my whole thing."

"It wouldn't," Alex says, kissing Rachel's neck, nibbling ever so gently.

"Nobody was speaking to you," Greg says sternly.

"Sorry, sir," Alex says. Rachel's still getting used to that; she doesn't hate Alex, not even a little bit, and seeing him brought down does nothing for her. The thing that really makes it okay is that Alex gets wildly turned on by the whole thing.

"Do your job if you want to stay," Greg says.

Alex doesn't even respond, not to Greg. "Tell me what you need," he says to Rachel, because it's his job to get her ready. He's eminently suited for it, and when she presses on his shoulder, he goes, nudging her onto her back so he can get between her legs. She makes a soft noise as he starts to lick her, his beard scratching against her thigh when he turns to kiss it before continuing.

Rachel loses track a little bit, still new to having a third person in bed, and it surprises her a little when Greg puts a hand on her stomach. "Only me," he says, with a soft smile, of the kind she thinks most people don't see.

She's not in love with Greg, but she sees why somebody would be.

She puts a hand in his hair and pulls him in, and he goes easily, kissing her. In a minute she's going to ride him until she's shaking, Alex just staring like she's a star, a rare emerald, but this is so good that she's apt to enjoy it for just a little while longer.

\--

Rhod fucking knew it. He absolutely knew the thing with Greg and Rachel wasn't over.

"Finite my arse," he says, putting his phone back in his pocket. It's fine, though. That's the in, the hook for Alex, to get him into Greg's clutches. Greg's protests are irrelevant. You get your friends the things they want, even if they start complaining about "I never said you should do that" and "You didn't pay for that" and "Rhod, you can't get us arrested in a foreign country."

Rachel is admittedly a pretty good start. No shame in that whatsoever.

Perhaps he could lock them in a room, or contrive for them to show up at a dungeon at the same time. The two of them don't travel much together, or he'd figure out how to make sure they only had one room to stay in. If this has to end with Greg regretting that he didn't take Rhod's advice, then that's on his head. Should have locked it down when he had the chance.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> While I've got you here, perhaps you'd be interested in the novella I wrote? You could enjoy a pleasant near future and a main character who might seem just a little familiar. [Go here and download for free!](https://sabinetzin.dreamwidth.org/474806.html)


End file.
